Chapters (22)
“It was only for a moment. She told me afterwards she was so faint she had to pause before she brought it across.”
“Yes, I see. Frightful bad luck. Nurse Banks gave the camphor injection, didn’t she?”
“She did.” Sister Marigold’s thin lips closed in a whippy line.
“And prepared the serum?”
“That is so.”
“I suppose I’ll have to see her. Between you and me and the Marble Lady, matron, she rather alarms me.”
“H’m,” said Sister Marigold. “Really? Fancy!”
“Still, it is my duty and I must. Is she on the premises?”
“Nurse Banks is leaving us to-morrow. I believe she is in the hospital this afternoon.”
“Leaving you, is she? Does she frighten you too, matron?”
Sister Marigold pursed up her lips.
“She is not a type I care to have nursing for me,” she said. “As I say, personal feelings should not interfere with a nurse’s work, much less political opinions.”
“I thought she looked as if she was suffering from High Ideals,” Alleyn remarked.
“Call them high ideals! Beastly Bolshevik nonsense,” said Sister Marigold vigorously. “She had the impertinence to tell me, in my own theatre, that she would be glad if the patient—” She stopped short and looked extremely uncomfortable. “Not, of course, that she meant anything. Still, as I say—”
“Yes, quite. They’d say anything, some of these people. Of course with those views she’d loathe the very sight of O’Callaghan.”
“How she dared!” fumed Sister Marigold.
“Tell me about it,” said Alleyn winningly.
After a little hesitation she did.